Keith Moon’s Last Interview, 1978

Here’s a sad lit­tle piece of rock and roll his­to­ry: the last tele­vi­sion inter­view of Kei­th Moon, mer­cu­r­ial drum­mer for The Who. It was broad­cast live on the morn­ing of August 7, 1978, exact­ly one month before Moon’s death from a drug over­dose at the age of 32.

Moon and gui­tarist Pete Town­shend had flown into New York the pre­vi­ous day to pro­mote The Who’s eighth stu­dio album, Who Are You. In addi­tion to a cou­ple of radio inter­views, Moon and Town­shend stopped by the stu­dios of Good Morn­ing Amer­i­ca for a TV inter­view with a stiff and humor­less David Hart­man. Moon appears bloat­ed and unhealthy. At one point he makes a joke about not being in con­trol of his life.

“Are you in con­trol of your life at all?” Hart­man asks.

“On cer­tain days,” says Moon.

“Cer­tain days.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you like the oth­er days?”

“Quite out of con­trol. Amazingly…ah…drunk.”

Moon’s var­i­ous addic­tions had caught up with him by 1978. “Musi­cal­ly,” writes Town­shend in Who I Am: A Mem­oir, “his drum­ming was get­ting so uneven that record­ing was almost impos­si­ble, so much so that work on the Who Are You album had ground to a halt.…[The Who] had just about enough tracks for a record, with very lit­tle addi­tion­al mate­r­i­al to spare. ‘Music Must Change’ was com­plet­ed with foot­steps replac­ing drums.”

On the night of Sep­tem­ber 6, 1978, Moon and his girl­friend Annette Wal­ter-Lax attend­ed a par­ty in Lon­don, host­ed by Paul McCart­ney. Dur­ing the par­ty, and at the mid­night pre­mier of The Bud­dy Hol­ly Sto­ry that fol­lowed, Moon took Clome­thi­a­zole, a seda­tive pre­scribed to help him cope with alco­hol with­draw­al. When he got home, he took more. Wal­ter-Lax found his life­less body when she checked on him on the after­noon of Sep­tem­ber 7. An autop­sy showed that Moon had tak­en 32 tablets of Clome­thi­a­zole. His doc­tor had told him not to exceed three per day.

In a pub­lic state­ment fol­low­ing Moon’s death, Town­shend wrote: “We have lost our great come­di­an, our supreme melo­drama­tist, the man, who apart from being the most unpre­dictable and spon­ta­neous drum­mer in rock, would have set him­self alight if he thought it would make the audi­ence laugh or jump out of its seats. We have lost our drum­mer but also our alter-ego. He drove us hard many times but his love of every one of us always ulti­mate­ly came through.… We loved him and he’s gone.”

For some­thing to help us remem­ber Moon’s con­tri­bu­tion to The Who–both his musi­cian­ship and his personality–here is a video fea­tur­ing his iso­lat­ed drum track from “Who Are You,” the title track on Moon’s final album:

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Kei­th Moon’s Final Per­for­mance with The Who (1978)

Kei­th Moon, Drum­mer of The Who, Pass­es Out at 1973 Con­cert; 19-Year-Old Fan Takes Over

Good­night Kei­th Moon: “The Most Inap­pro­pri­ate Bed­time Sto­ry Ever”

Duke Ellington’s Symphony in Black, Starring a 19-Year-old Billie Holiday in Her First Filmed Performance

In Sep­tem­ber of 1935 Para­mount Pic­tures released a nine-minute movie remark­able in sev­er­al ways. Sym­pho­ny in Black: A Rhap­sody of Negro Life is one of the ear­li­est cin­e­mat­ic explo­rations of African-Amer­i­can cul­ture for a mass audi­ence. It fea­tures Duke Elling­ton and his orches­tra per­form­ing his first extend­ed com­po­si­tion. And per­haps most notably, it stars Bil­lie Hol­i­day in her first filmed per­for­mance.

The one-reel movie, direct­ed by Fred Waller, tells the sto­ry of Elling­ton’s “A Rhap­sody of Negro Life,” using pic­tures to con­vey the images run­ning through the musi­cian’s mind as he com­posed and per­formed the piece. Elling­ton’s “Rhap­sody” has four parts: “The Labor­ers,” “A Tri­an­gle,” “A Hymn of Sor­row” and “Harlem Rhythm.” Hol­i­day appears as a jilt­ed and abused lover in “A Tri­an­gle.”

Hol­i­day’s only pre­vi­ous screen appear­ance was as an uncred­it­ed extra in a night­club scene in the 1933 Paul Robe­son film, The Emper­or Jones. Sym­pho­ny in Black was pro­duced over a ten-month peri­od. Hol­i­day was only 19 when her scenes were shot. She sings Elling­ton’s “Sad­dest Tale,” a song care­ful­ly select­ed by the com­pos­er to fit the young singer’s style. “Sad­dest tale on land or sea,” begin the lyrics, “Was when my man walked out on me.” In the book Bil­lie Hol­i­day: A Biog­ra­phy, author Meg Greene calls the per­for­mance “mes­mer­iz­ing”:

Sym­pho­ny in Black marked an impor­tant mile­stone in the devel­op­ment of Bil­lie Hol­i­day, the woman and the singer. Elling­ton’s deft han­dling enabled Bil­lie to dis­tin­guish her­self from oth­er torch singers. She did not wear her emo­tions on her sleeve; instead, she revealed her­self grad­u­al­ly as the song unfold­ed. Hers was a care­ful­ly craft­ed and sophis­ti­cat­ed per­for­mance, espe­cial­ly for a woman only 19 years old. This care­ful­ly woven tapes­try of life and music was the ori­gin of the per­sona that audi­ences came to iden­ti­fy with Bil­lie. Oth­er singers such as Frank Sina­tra and Judy Gar­land may have more suc­cess­ful­ly estab­lished and cul­ti­vat­ed an image, but Bil­lie Hol­i­day did it first.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Bil­lie Hol­i­day Sings ‘Strange Fruit’

Bil­lie Holiday–The Life and Artistry of Lady Day: The Com­plete Film

Duke Elling­ton Plays for Joan Miró in the South of France, 1966: Bassist John Lamb Looks Back on the Day

Listen to the National’s New Album, Trouble Will Find Me, on iTunes (Free for a Limited Time)

Anoth­er quick heads up: The Nation­al’s sixth LP, Trou­ble Will Find Me, will be released on May 21. But, right now, you can jump over to iTunes and stream it for free on your com­put­er or iPad (for a lim­it­ed time).

To access the stream, click this link, tap the “View in iTunes” but­ton, click the “Lis­ten Now” but­ton, and you’re good to go.

Above, we’re start­ing you off with “Sea of Love,” the first video from the album.

H/T Liz

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Daft Punk’s New Album, Ran­dom Access Mem­o­ries, Stream­ing for Free on iTunes for a Lim­it­ed Time

Keith Richards Waxes Philosophical, Plays Live with His Idol, the Great Muddy Waters

Cadil­lac Records—a 2008 biopic about the rise and fall of Chicago’s Chess Records—won acclaim for bravu­ra per­for­mances, gar­nered Bey­once a White House per­for­mance and threats of vio­lence from Etta James, and took it on the chin for its deeply mud­dled his­to­ry. But nobody goes to the movies for a his­to­ry les­son, right? What stuck with me was its drama­ti­za­tion of that moment (okay, decade) when R&B and “race records” got rebrand­ed by Alan Freed as “Rock n’ Roll” and crossed over the col­or line. Hun­dreds of bands hijacked Chuck Berry’s licks (as he saw it), and then Jag­ger crashed the par­ty with his Mud­dy Waters impres­sion while his band took their name from one of his blues songs.

The Stones may not have been the first British band to make Amer­i­can elec­tric blues their own, but they were arguably the most pop­u­lar. In an excerpt (below) from a longer inter­view from 1973, Kei­th Richards namechecks both Waters and Berry, as well as usu­al sus­pects Lit­tle Richard, Bo Did­dley, Jim­my Reed, Slim Har­po, and the much ear­li­er Robert John­son and Blind Lemon Jef­fer­son. The host push­es Kei­th on his roots influ­ences and the part of black music in the Stones’ sound, ask­ing if their lack of sen­ti­men­tal­ism came from the blues. Kei­th replies,“I don’t get sen­ti­men­tal about things because… it doesn’t lead to clar­i­ty of thought.” And when I think clar­i­ty, I think Kei­th Richards. But seri­ous­ly, it’s a gem of an inter­view.

Asked about how black musi­cians react­ed to his blues appro­pri­a­tion, Richards gets philo­soph­i­cal: “Prob­a­bly as many dif­fer­ent reac­tions from them as any­body else.” We know how Chuck Berry felt—robbed—but Kei­th tells us Waters took it in stride, “grate­ful” for the intro­duc­tion to the white col­lege cir­cuit which put more bread in his pock­et. Maybe so, but Waters’ crossover before white audi­ences pre­dat­ed the Stones. Before the British invaded—two years before the Stones formed—Muddy hit England’s shores in 1958 (one year after Sis­ter Roset­ta Tharpe brought her elec­tric blues across the pond). While the usu­al belief that Waters’ blues shocked the Brits may be a mis­con­cep­tion, he won a new audi­ence on the folk cir­cuit, return­ing to Eng­land in ‘64. After lay­ing low for a while, Waters saw a career revival late in life, per­form­ing into his final years with The Stones, Eric Clap­ton, John­ny Win­ters, and his own band. In the video above, see a full per­for­mance of Waters with the Stones from 1981, two years before Waters’ death from heart fail­ure. He’s 66 at this gig, three years younger than Richards is now.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Chuck Berry Takes Kei­th Richards to School, Shows Him How to Rock (1987)

Revis­it The Life & Music of Sis­ter Roset­ta Tharpe: ‘The God­moth­er of Rock and Roll’

Mud­dy Waters and Friends on the Blues and Gospel Train, 1964

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Wash­ing­ton, DC. Fol­low him @jdmagness

Jimi Hendrix’s Final Interview on September 11, 1970: Listen to the Complete Audio

There’s not much left to say about Jimi Hendrix’s last days. The end­less stream of com­men­tary sur­round­ing his life and death threat­ens to bury the man and his music in music-press fetishiza­tion, urban leg­end, and fawn­ing mythol­o­gy. When I’m able to total­ly tune out the hype, Hendrix’s pol­ished work stands the time-test, and some of the more raw releases—the bootlegs and demos that appear every few years—at least doc­u­ment musi­cal roads not tak­en and pre­serve moments of stun­ning genius, if not ful­ly-real­ized com­po­si­tions.

And Hendrix’s intrigu­ing persona—revealed in casu­al inter­views and conversations—still cap­ti­vates, with his off­hand lyri­cism and frac­tal imag­i­na­tion, qual­i­ties on full dis­play in his final press inter­view, to NME’s Kei­th Altham, on Sep­tem­ber 11, 1970, just sev­en days before the artist’s death. (Lis­ten to the YouTube audio above, or Sound­cloud below.) Hen­drix is breezy, con­tem­pla­tive, a lit­tle eva­sive, reveal­ing his own sense of being between things, not sure where he’s head­ed next. As all those late-Hen­drix bootlegs and demos tes­ti­fy, he could have done any­thing and made it work with the right band and a bit more time…

But enough what-ifs. Nobody’s bet­ter on Hen­drix than Hen­drix, so lis­ten to the inter­view. You can find a full tran­script and much more Hen­drix-on-Hen­drix and music-press chat­ter in a recent (and quite inex­pen­sive) Kin­dle pub­li­ca­tion called Jimi Hen­drix: Inter­views and Reviews 1967–71. Ulti­mate Clas­sic Rock calls the final inter­view the “most inter­est­ing thing about the book from a his­tor­i­cal stand­point,” and this may be true.

Final­ly, if you don’t make it all the way to the end of the audio, Hen­drix leaves on this vivid and quite fun­ny note:

ALTHAM: Do you feel per­son­al­ly that you have enough mon­ey to live com­fort­ably with­out nec­es­sar­i­ly mak­ing more as a sort of pro­fes­sion­al enter­tain­er?

HENDRIX: Ah, I don’t think so, not the way I’d like to live, because like I want to get up in the morn­ing and just roll over in my bed into an indoor swim­ming pool and then swim to the break­fast table, come up for air and get maybe a drink of orange juice or some­thing like that. Then just flop over from the chair into the swim­ming pool, swim into the bath­room and go on and shave and what­ev­er.

ALTHAM: You don’t want to live just com­fort­ably, you wan­na live lux­u­ri­ous­ly?

HENDRIX: No! Is that lux­u­ri­ous? I was think­ing about a tent, maybe, [laughs] over­hang­ing … over­hang­ing this … a moun­tain stream! [laugh­ter].

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Voodoo Chile’ Per­formed on a Gayageum, a Tra­di­tion­al Kore­an Instru­ment

In 1969 Telegram, Jimi Hen­drix Invites Paul McCart­ney to Join a Super Group with Miles Davis

Pre­vi­ous­ly Unre­leased Jimi Hen­drix Record­ing, “Some­where,” with Bud­dy Miles and Stephen Stills

See Jimi Hendrix’s First TV Appear­ance, and His Last as a Back­ing Musi­cian (1965)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Wash­ing­ton, DC. Fol­low him @jdmagness.

Daft Punk’s New Album, Random Access Memories, Streaming for Free on iTunes for a Limited Time

daft-punk-random-access-memories

A quick heads up: Daft Punk’s fourth album, Ran­dom Access Mem­o­ries, will be released on May 21. But, right now, you can hop over to iTunes and stream it for free on your com­put­er or iPad (for a lim­it­ed time).

To access the stream, sim­ply click this link, tap the “View in iTunes” but­ton, and then click the “Lis­ten Now” but­ton.

If you like what you hear, you can always pre-order the album on iTunes and Ama­zon.

PS If you need iTunes soft­ware, you can down­load it for free here.

Find us on Face­bookTwit­ter and Google Plus and we’ll make it easy to share cul­tur­al media with your friends!  

The Genius of Brian Eno On Display in 80 Minute Q&A: Talks Art, iPad Apps, ABBA, & More

Four years ago, I expe­ri­enced musi­cal poly­math, rock pro­duc­er, “drift­ing clar­i­fi­er,” and high-tech painter Bri­an Eno’s gen­er­a­tive-art instal­la­tion 77 Mil­lion Paint­ings in Long Beach. I also saw him give an enter­tain­ing talk there on his obser­va­tions of and ideas about sound, images, and cul­ture. This year, he brought the show to New York City, giv­ing it the largest stag­ing yet, and then sat down for an equal­ly enter­tain­ing 80-minute Q&A for the Red Bull Music Acad­e­my. Per­haps it sounds a lit­tle odd that a cre­ator who has based the past few decades of recent solo work on qui­etude, reflec­tion, and men­tal recep­tive­ness would appear at such length in a forum spon­sored by an ener­gy drink, but hey, we live in inter­est­ing times, and Eno has inter­est­ing thoughts, no mat­ter where he voic­es them.

Sit­ting back on a sofa (whose side table comes stocked with cans of Red Bull), Eno dis­cuss­es com­pos­ing music for hos­pi­tals after meet­ing a great many chil­dren born to his 1975 album Dis­creet Music; the ama­teur cho­rus he runs and with whom he some­times invites famous singer friends to sit in; “sce­nius,” or the spe­cial kind of genius that emerges when large num­bers of enthu­si­asts cohere into a scene; the DJ as cul­tur­al “lubri­cant”; his love of ear­ly 20th-cen­tu­ry Russ­ian paint­ing; what makes pop­u­lar music, from Abba to Bey­on­cé, sound pop­u­lar; the impor­tance of dead­lines; and his new iPad app Scape, which, to his mind, should soon dis­place the tire­some con­ven­tions of Hol­ly­wood film scor­ing entire­ly. While this pro­vides a stim­u­lat­ing intro­duc­tion to Eno the intel­lec­tu­al, long­time fans will want to catch up with his lat­est thoughts on sev­er­al favorite sub­jects, such as the val­ue of sur­ren­der in not just expe­ri­enc­ing but cre­at­ing art, and the coun­ter­in­tu­itive bursts of cre­ativ­i­ty that come when work­ing with few­er options, not more.

H/T goes to Heather

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Bri­an Eno Once Com­posed Music for Win­dows 95; Now He Lets You Cre­ate Music with an iPad App

Bri­an Eno on Cre­at­ing Music and Art As Imag­i­nary Land­scapes (1989)

Watch Bri­an Eno’s “Video Paint­ings,” Where 1980s TV Tech­nol­o­gy Meets Visu­al Art

Day of Light: A Crowd­sourced Film by Mul­ti­me­dia Genius Bri­an Eno

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

In 1969 Telegram, Jimi Hendrix Invites Paul McCartney to Join a Super Group with Miles Davis

McCartneytelegram

Click above for a (slight­ly) larg­er image

trend­ing sto­ry this week­end brings to light what could have been a pret­ty super 1969 col­lab­o­ra­tion between Miles Davis, his phe­nom­e­nal long­time drum­mer Tony Williams, Jimi Hen­drix and Paul McCart­ney. Davis and Hen­drix had already been jam­ming togeth­er infor­mal­ly in New York, plan­ning to record an album. The pair­ing seems nat­ur­al con­sid­er­ing this was Davis’ Bitch­es Brew psy­che­del­ic fusion phase.

The inclu­sion of McCartney’s pop sen­si­bil­i­ties seems odd, though, and pos­si­bly inspired. It could have result­ed in some real­ly fas­ci­nat­ing music, or a mess of per­son­al­i­ties and ideas. But alas, it nev­er came to pass. Davis and Hen­drix sent McCart­ney an impromp­tu Octo­ber 21st, 1969 telegram request to record with them in New York: “We are record­ing an LP togeth­er this week­end. How about com­ing in to play bass stop call Alan Dou­glas 212–5812212. Peace Jimi Hen­drix Miles Davis Tony Williams.” [Alan Dou­glass was the osten­si­ble pro­duc­er.] But, as Rolling Stone explains:

It’s unclear if McCart­ney was aware of the request….  Bea­t­les aide Peter Brown respond­ed the next day, telling Hen­drix and Davis that McCart­ney was out on vaca­tion and was­n’t expect­ed back for two weeks.

Unfor­tu­nate­ly, the only repro­duc­tions of the cor­re­spon­dence avail­able online are the poor­ly vis­i­ble images at the top and below. Nonethe­less, you can make out Davis, Hen­drix, and Williams’ request on the right, and the response at the left (the order is reversed below). Both telegrams are locat­ed at the Hard Rock Café in Prague. For more on the sto­ry, read the Tele­graph’s sum­ma­tion. I’m sure it won’t be long before some enter­pris­ing music hack­er cre­ates the ulti­mate Davis/Hendrix/McCartney mashup and gives us a taste of what might have been.

McCartneyResponsetelegram

Click to (slight­ly) enlarge

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Rare Miles Davis Live Record­ings Cap­ture the Jazz Musi­cian at the Height of His Pow­ers

Pre­vi­ous­ly Unre­leased Jimi Hen­drix Record­ing, “Some­where,” with Bud­dy Miles and Stephen Stills

Paul McCart­ney Shoots New Music Video with Natal­ie Port­man and John­ny Depp

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Wash­ing­ton, DC. Fol­low him @jdmagness

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